


In Service of Etruria's Citizens

by inanismortem, spymursclause



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mildain/Elphin teases Perceval a lot, Pumpkins, Spoilers, i kind of added klein's sassy attitude off of that one support he had with perceval, in the notes anyways, there's not really much to tag ig???, there's spoilers for binding blade bc of what happens to mildain/elphin!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 15:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20817233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanismortem/pseuds/inanismortem, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spymursclause/pseuds/spymursclause
Summary: FE Rarepair Week Day One: Pumpkins





	In Service of Etruria's Citizens

**Author's Note:**

> I don't recall exactly when Klein was made a general but to err on the safe side, this story would take place shortly before Elphin is 'assassinated' hence them using Mildain to address him instead of Elphin and him still having his sight.

Mildain hears them before he sees them, the loud  _ thwack! _ of Perceval’s knife sinking into the pumpkins while Klein seems to complaining about something back home. There’s a pile of pumpkins on the table, one or two carved out with precision that screams ‘Perceval.’ Klein sits a couple of seats away, digging the seeds out of a pumpkin with a kind of viciousness Mildain has to laugh at.

“Your Highness.” Perceval notices him first, Klein looking up from the pumpkin he’s been hollowing out, “good day.” Mildain stifles another chuckle as Klein slides the empty pumpkin onto a small pile of ones that are presumably also hollowed out, dunking his hands into water before rerolling his sleeves again.

“Prince Mildain.” Klein is considerably less formal and stiff than Perceval, shooting him a quick smile before he picks up his spoon again, wielding it like a weapon as Perceval hands him another pumpkin. He seems to have mastered the art of scraping out the seeds with the least amount of movement and amount of time. “What brings you here?”

“I heard two pretty noble boys were doing the messy task of preparing some lanterns,” Mildain teases, snickering when Perceval splits a pumpkin at ‘pretty noble boys.’

“Clarine’s supposed to help us paint them later and she’s coming with designs to carve into them.” Klein doesn’t seem to notice Perceval’s trip up nor does he care about Mildain’s remark, tossing the next pumpkin into the pile. Perceval cuts out the next pumpkin with a bit more force than before, dipping his head.

Mildain nods in response, bending over Perceval’s shoulder to watch Perceval cut out the bottom of another pumpkin. “So I came here to see the spectacle, and lo and behold, I see two generals using their finely honed skills in service of Etruria’s citizens.” Klein lets out a laugh and Perceval scowls with no real displeasure, jumping a bit when Mildain speaks right beside his ear. 

“Perfect precision and care when making the cuts to the pumpkin are a must,” Klein agrees, a little sarcastically, “if they are to bring joy to the community and even hope to make the Knight General learn how to smile ag-”

“ _ Klein. _ ” Klein cuts off his sentence but sticks his tongue out Perceval and Mildain laughs. It’s rare enough to see Perceval break from his impassive mask. “ _ Come here- _ ”

Perceval makes a grab for the younger general, almost receiving a spoonful of pumpkin guts to his face when Klein flings whatever is in his hand. The Archer General has fast reflexes, and Mildain supposes his small size also lends to Perceval’s failure to catch the Klein. 

Klein slips away, throwing a grin over his shoulder as he heads in the general direction of the kitchen. Perceval half rises before he falls back down with a groan, picking up his knife again.

“Don’t mutilate the pumpkins, they don’t deserve your rage,” Mildain says breezily when Perceval splits another, removing the pieces and putting them with the other pumpkin Percival had murdered before. “Pumpkins cost money and Klein did have a point, my knight~”

“Just who’s side are you on?” Perceval asks darkly, side eyeing Mildain. Mildain beams back, undaunted and Perceval rolls his eyes. “I do smile. Sometimes.”

Mildain looks around, checking to make sure there are no prying eyes before he presses a kiss to the top of Perceval’s head, grinning. “I know. It brings me great joy when you do.” Perceval turns red, knife going straight into the pumpkin he’s holding and he leaves it there, putting his head into his hands. 

“My prince-”

“Mildain,” Mildain insists, tousling Perceval’s hair, frowning when it bounces back to its original place.

“ _ Prince _ Mildain, please, your words-”

“I love you,” Mildain says mischievously and Perceval stares blankly into the distance, red creeping up to his ears by now. “Very, very much, my knight.” 

Perceval stays silent for a beat, and then another before he glances around himself, heaving a big sigh of relief when he catches no one.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, almost too quiet to be heard, taking Mildain’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of Mildain’s hand. Perceval is tender in these little moments the catch alone, leaning his head against Mildain for a bit until he pulls back, pointing at the spoon Klein’s dropped on the floor. “Now Prince Mildain,” Mildain groans when Perceval’s voice changes to his professional one again, “in service of your citizens, you need to help me hollow out these pumpkins until Klein returns.” 

Mildain pulls away, rolling up his sleeves while eyeing the pile of orange that seems daunting now. Klein had seemed to be easily doing pumpkin after pumpkin but he was an archer who trained with his arms every single day. Mildain’s absolutely sure he could never hope to rival Klein’s arm strength and hopes Klein returns before his arm turns numb.

* * *

“I take, there has not been much progress?” Klein jokes as he returns, glancing at the less than half done pile of pumpkins while Percival hollows out the one he’s holding with the same viciousness Klein had been expressing before. “Those are… Some big holes Perceval.”

“Yes, I know. Imagine our delight in discovering only your hands could fit through the holes I was carving before,” Perceval replies dryly through gritted teeth, pulling his hand out of the pumpkin with a grimace as seeds cling to his hand. Neither he nor Mildain can take them out with as much grace and ease as Klein is able to. “Not everyone has child hands.”

Klein’s smile turns almost chilling and Mildain turns away when Klein turns to the other general. 

“I will gut you,” Klein threatens sweetly, voice silvery and casual like he’s discussing dinner with Perceval. “Don’t think I won’t put those knife skills to use.” 

“Find a dagger that has a hilt you can fit your hands around first-” Mildain has always found it comical how two of his youngest generals, supposedly mature and calm for their age seem to act a bit like bickering children when they’re around each other.

Mildain pats Perceval’s shoulder taking the spoon from him, smiling at Klein who watches the Perceval quiet down with a hint of confusion, looking back and forth between Mildain and Perceval. 

Fortunately for Perceval and Mildain and unfortunately for Klein’s romance senses, nothing clicks. No sudden look of realization spreads across Klein’s face. Mildain will be forever grateful Klein is sharp when it comes to diplomatic matters and battle strategy but forever dense when it comes to anything romantic. 

Klein goes back to hollowing the pumpkins dutifully, taking the spoon from Mildain’s now numb hand with a hint of a grin when Mildain almost throws it back to him, taking a seat on the other side of the table. Clarine arrives when they’re just about done with the last ones, and thankfully, with servants so they can have a rest.

Mildain has never seen Perceval move so fast to exit a room in a situation that doesn’t call for battle.

“I am,” Perceval hisses, stretching his arms above him as they walk by side, Mildain shaking his hand every now and then, “going to flatten the next pumpkin I see.” There’s no venom in his voice, just weariness and the pop of his shoulders as he continues to shake out hours of sitting.

“But what if I asked you to carve one for me~?” Mildain asks jokingly, grinning up at Perceval, expecting to be brushed off or ignored.

“Then I’d gladly tolerate one more pumpkin for you, my prince.” Mildain bumps his shoulder against Perceval’s as it’s too risky to take his hand but a soft smile rests on his face as he lowers his head. 

“You don’t have to.”

Perceval stops in his tracks, half turning to face Mildain. Mildain’s heart skips a beat, catching the split second smile that flashes across Perceval’s face before it’s gone like it was never there.

“If it makes you happy,” Perceval murmurs, tender again, “I will.” 


End file.
